Months
by kurt-york
Summary: March: She tears open the invite and scans the glittery paper, words printed in an elaborate cursive font, her smile growing wider.
1. January

January

-

It's cold.

He's cold.

She's cold.

It's not the weather, because Seattle was never really cold.

Their smiles are frozen and their hearts hurt.

They're happy for her, happy that she can spend time with him, spend years with him.

But, it's because of him that they're so cold.

Carly had been so ecstatic when she saw him.

"Dad!" she had screamed and she repeated the word over and over, because she never got to say it enough.

That word that they repeat to themselves, talking to no one but the darkness, feeling it roll off their tongues…weird, foreign.

To them, _dad_ is just a faded childhood memory and they wish that isn't how it is.

Carly's off on different bonding trips, father daughter t-shirts and special Shay family dinners and everything is smiles and laughter in the apartment, and Sam and Freddie watch from a distance.

Their mouths are smiling, but their eyes are blank.

Carly's throwing another party just because and it should be happy, but all they can see is Carly hugging her dad, Carly saying dad, the exchange of "I love you" between father and daughter and they want it.

They want it so much that their hearts might explode from wishing that maybe, maybe their dad's would want to come see "their little girl" or "their favorite boy", but when do wishes ever come true?

"Hey, Carls, I'm going to leave early, don't party too hard."

"Yeah, same, see you at school tomorrow."

She laughs, and her eyes are twinkling and she looks so pretty when she's happy.

"Bye guys, see you tomorrow!"

She leans in and gives them a bear hug and they're almost suffocated by her.

They're standing, facing a closed door for a while before they realize it.

They glance at each other, and maybe it's because they know what the other is going through, that a mutual understanding is passed between eyes: neither of them wants to go home.

"Groovy Smoothie?"

"Let's hit it."

They're sitting on the round plastic chairs, their feet resting on the metal bars just above the ground.

Freddie orders two hot chocolates, handing six dollars over to T-Bo; he's already become accustomed to paying for two drinks.

"It sucks." It sounds loud and out in the open and vulnerable and Freddie wants to grab it from the air and stuff it in a bag where it can stay. She's blunt and he didn't expect her to stay quiet about anything, but sometimes, when it comes to emotions he doesn't know.

He already knows what she's talking about, but he feigns stupidity because he doesn't want to talk about it.

"What, that they have hot chocolate at a smoothie store?"

"Yeah…that, and…you know what? Forget about it."

She sighs and takes a large gulp of hot chocolate, it burns her throat on the way down but it warms her up.

Her tongue hurts like hell now.

He's quiet because he doesn't want to talk about it, but he does, and the words are floating around the opening of his mouth, right at the tip of his tongue, but he bites them back. Sure, he would consider him and Sam friends, best friends, but he hasn't talked to anyone about it.

She's watching him and he's going through a series of conflicting emotions and it's pissing her off more than usual.

"Dude, if you want to say something, just spit it out."

He stares at her.

"Alright, it does suck."

She leans back smugly, because even when she feels like shit, Sam still likes to win. He stares at her boyish frame, slumped in the chair and rolls his eyes.

They're quiet for a few minutes.

"Did your mom scare him off?"

He stares at her and he doesn't know whether he should laugh, because it's half true or if he should be mad at her for insulting his mom. Instead, he lets out a half snort followed by a frown.

She glances sideways at him, "Dude, do you need to go to the ladies room?"

He narrows his eyes, "No, I don't, thanks for caring…you need to go to the litter box?"

Sarcasm and crude humor is dripping from their mouths.

She opens her mouth to aim an insult at him, but decides against it and asks, "So, why did he leave?"

"I don't know."

He stops, deciding whether to tell her or not and he thinks why not? Because she knows how it feels.

"Well, my mom won't tell me a lot, I remember fighting one night and he was yelling about how he was tired of living this way and how she didn't let him breathe and the next morning I woke up and he was gone."

He doesn't stop there because he needs to get it off his chest before it suffocates him completely.

"My mom was sitting on the couch and she looked so empty. She started becoming over protective of me and not wanting me to go far because she probably thought I would leave. I guess I let her baby me because when I saw her on the couch she was…broken. A million pieces and I wanted to help her."

He stops now and she's staring at him, mouth hanging slightly open. He reaches over and lifts her chin up and her mouth snaps shut.

"Your turn."

She narrows her eyes at him.

"Fair enough."

She takes another large gulp of the hot chocolate which has by now cooled down a sufficient amount to drink without being burned.

"Well, my parents got divorced when I was around five or so. It just never worked out. I mean, the loved each other, but it just wasn't there. So my dad decided to start over new…he still sends a check every month to help out, which is nice enough. He was pretty awesome though…sucks that I can't see him anymore, but my mom's cool so I guess I can't ask for too much."

He nods in agreement and it's probably one of the few things they will ever agree on.

They feel closer to each other because of their losses. They've reached a new emotional degree of understanding in their friendship even though they don't notice it.

Sam's finished her drink and tosses the empty cup into the trash can.

"Score suckas!!"

It's another eye roll.

"We should probably get going, we have school tomorrow."

"You're right."

They get up to leave, grabbing their jackets and slinging them over their shoulders.

"Did it get warmer?"

"Yeah, I was just about to ask."

They shrug.

"Later Fred-o."

"Night Sam."


	2. February

February

-

Sam hates holidays, save the ones she can gain presents from or prank a couple of people during. So, she guesses, that she's cool with all holidays. Except for one: that god damn Valentine's day.

It's the couples, caught up in their fantasy romances, ignorant of reality, that piss her off the most. "Hey, he's probably going to cheat on you someday" she wants to yell, or "hey, we all die in the end". It makes her feel like a sadist, but she doesn't care. She's Sam, and she's god damn proud of it.

Every year, it was customary for Freddie to come to school on Valentine's day with a large box of chocolates accompanied with an all too wide smile. It takes one guess to figure out who the chocolates are for.

She watches the front doors of the school expectantly. _In 5…4…3…2. _

"Right on cue Freddie my man," she snorts and slaps him on the back, "never could've guessed you'd come with those chocolates…Dove, am I right?"

He rubs the now aching area where her hand made contact with his body and rolls his eyes.

"Good morning to you too Puckett…and yes, it's Dove. I happen to think that these chocolates are the creamiest and have the best consistency compared to other brands."

"Yeah yeah," she waves her hand at him, "you should stop talking before I fall asleep."

He narrows his eyes at her.

"Where's Carly?"

"Making out with Shane near the upstairs water fountain…you know…the usual."

He starts and she laughs because it looks like someone's just deflated his heart like a balloon. He shakes himself because he's fallen for it again.

"Very funny Sam, where is she?"

"At the café around the corner, I asked her to pick me up a bagel; she should be here in about five minutes."

He nods and stands near Carly's locker, waiting.

"Dude, you look like a loser."

He ignores her and continues to wait, humming something quietly.

She gives up on trying to annoy him and seats herself on the floor, against the wall opposite of Carly's locker, keeping a close eye on the front door and Freddie.

"Freddie, she's here!!"

He looks around nervously and prepares himself to present the chocolates to Carly, along with a home-made card.

"Psyche."

He groans and slants his eyes at her before returning to his wait.

Once Carly gets to her locker she kindly accepts the chocolates and reads the card aloud, interrupted by loud snorts and laughter from Sam. She places the chocolates into her locker, carefully placing his card on top and gives him a hug.

Sam watches his face flush and she laughs.

Carly hands Sam her bagel and says, "Alright guys, I need to go to math early so I can make up the quiz I missed."

They nod and wave good-bye.

The next twenty minutes are spent arguing and making sarcastic comments toward each other and occasionally other people. The bell rings and they part ways.

"Hey Sam, wait."

He stops her, tugging on her arm.

She turns around with eyebrows raised, shooting his hand on her arm a warning glance.

"I got you something for Valentine's day too."

She narrows her eyes, wary of a counter-attack for her teasing this morning.

He reaches in to his back pack and pulls out a bag of ham and some strips of bacon. On the plastic covering it says in black sharpie, "to Puckett, I know you hate Valentine's day, but you love meat, so I thought I might try to make this day better for you".

She looks up at him and his face is a deep red.

She feels a deep pang of gratitude for having a great friend who understands her.

"Thanks Fred-o," she says in gruff voice, "you're not too bad yourself."

He understands that this is Sam's off-hand way of saying thank you.

He nods and gives her a small hug before leaving.

As she sits in history, chewing on the honey smoked ham, she still hates Valentine's day.

But the meat sure as hell made it a lot better.


	3. March

March

-

"Hey guys, guys!!"

All three turn around simultaneously.

She's greeted by a "hey Wendy" from Carly, a "sup" from Sam and a "how's it going" from Freddie.

"Well, I just wanted to invite you to my spring birthday bash."

She hands them cream colored envelopes. The light scent of vanilla trails around them.

Carly glances at the cover of the invitation, "Well hey, sweet sixteen, the big one."

She grins, "That's right, it's going to be a big party…well, I should get going, my mom's waiting in the car."

She turns around, walking to the front door, her red hair standing out in the crowd of students blocking the hall way, Ridgeway's queen socialite and gossiper.

"Guys, we should go!" Carly turns to Sam and Freddie.

"I don't know, I thought we always hit up the Groovy Smoothie on Saturday nights."

"Sam, read the invitation."

She tears open the invite and scans the glittery paper, words printed in an elaborate cursive font, her smile growing wider.

"Well…I'm there."

"For the food, am I right?"

She lets out a loud laugh, "You got it ma brotha!!"

-

Carly's squeezing herself into a tight black dress and slipping on black pumps. As specified by Wendy, this party is semi-formal.

Sam lopes in through the bed room door as Carly is carefully applying mascara to her already thick lashes.

"Carls, you don't need mascara, you have great eye lashes already."

"Yes Sam, you tell me this every time, and..."

"You don't listen every time."

Carly directs a friendly eye roll at Sam who grins back.

She throws a quick glance at Sam's outfit. "Nice", she comments. Sam shrugs, heaving her shoulders half heartedly. She scuffs her dirty converse on Carly's bed post and fidgets in her dress.

It's slightly below knee length and tan. Black t-shirt sleeves cover her arms and a shiny patch of studs covers the front of the dress which hangs slightly loose. The skirt flows out, pleated on the sides. It's whimsical and crazy, and she's pulling it off. Her hairs short now, shoulder length with choppy bangs, and it works just as well as the long hair did.

"No Carly, no."

Sam jerks her head away from Carly's incoming mascara brush which she's grown an animalistic wariness of.

"Come on Sam, just once."

"No."

Carly sighs, defeated, and screws the cap of the mascara back on.

"One day Sam, one day."

"You wish Carls, you wish."

It's the same routine every time they have an outing or a party to go to.

"Well, Freddie should be here soon, right?"

"Don't know, don't care."

There's a knock on the door and Sam runs down the stairs, Carly clomping after in her heels. She flings open the door enough time for Freddie to slip in to the apartment and then slams it shut.

"Guys, I think I should wear a different pair of shoes."

Sam and Freddie exchange an eye roll.

"Carly, just wear the ones you're wearing right now."

She hesitates, "Are you sure? Do they look good with my outfit?"

Sam lets out a loud sigh, "The boys are going to eat you up, you're workin' those shoes. You look fine." Freddie nods his head in agreement, "You do Carly, you look great."

Carly smiles at her friends, "Thanks guys."

"Any time."

As they rush out of the door, hurried along by Sam and her insatiable hunger, Freddie pauses and looks at Sam.

No one could pull of that dress but Sam he think when he sees it, and it's the truth.

"Nice dress Puckett."

"Pretty bad ass isn't it Benson. I'm a professional."

He laughs because he always laughs when he's around her and he realizes just how beautiful she's become.

"Whatever you say Sam."

-

The lights are dimmed at the party and hundreds of teenagers are milling around or letting loose on the dance floor. Carly scans the crowd looking for Sam, she can see Freddie dancing, and she laughs because he's not the best dancer but at least he tries and he's having fun. Sam…where's Sam?

Carly silently hits herself on the head; she should've known where to check first.

"Sam, you should come and dance."

Carly tugs on her arm. Sam grunts through her mouthful of food, one hand still reaching for another finger sandwich.

"What'd you say?"

"I said no."

"Come on Sam, you have to go dance, don't stay at the buffet table the entire time."

Sam sighs, "No Carly."

"If you don't dance, I can put mascara on you next time."

Sam narrows her eyes at Carly, "Well played Shay."

Carly smirks, "I learn from the best."

Sam is dragged out on to the dance floor by Carly and sullenly waves her body side to side. Carly gives her a disproving look before grabbing her hands and shaking her around. Sam lets out a loud laugh, "Alright Carly, I'll dance." Soon, she's become the life of the party because it's Sam and she _is_ a party.

She's doing the sprinkler with a crowd of followers when Freddie sees her. He watches, laughing.

A slow song comes on and she frowns. Her followers disperse to find partners, and she begins to make her way to the buffet table again.

Freddie blocks her way and asks an annoyed Sam to dance. She complies because she has nothing else to do.

It's an awkward shuffling of feet and eyes that won't meet.

"So, how does it feel to be a professional bad ass?"

"I don't know…bad ass."

They laugh and everything else is easy.

-

They part ways for the night in the hall way between the apartments.

"Bye Freddie, see you tomorrow."

"Later Benson."

"Bye Carly…see you around Puckett."

They smirk at each other and Sam whirls herself in to Carly's house because she's hungry again. Carly laughs and throws a smile at Freddie.

Freddie walks in to the apartment and leans against the front door, confused. Everything's the same, but it's different.

He doesn't know why, but when he falls asleep at night he dreams of the sprinkler and Sam.


End file.
